Dark Elves and Darker Hearts
by Pizzachu
Summary: When Thor shows up and whisks Jane away to Asgard, Darcy accidentally goes along for the ride. What trouble can the taser-wielding mortal cause in the Immortal Realm? And what effects could this have on our heroes and our story?
1. 1- What Goes Down, Might Come Down Again

**Author's Note:**

**Chapters for this story so far seem to be turning out kinda short as I write them, but I hope to make up for it by being able to update quicker that way. Later on after I get past the initial opening stuff for the story, I expect the chapter lengths and update times to balance out a little better.**

**This story follows Darcy and how she sees events happening, though it is not told from first person. The writing style occasionally adapts to have a more Darcy-esque feel.**

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Pop!

The half-full soda bottle blinks out of sight. Dropped from nearly fifty feet up, the fragile glass simply vanished still twenty feet above the unforgiving concrete below.

Children giggle, and scientists stare. The bottle is simply gone.

"How-" The clearly in-charge scientist lady, Jane foster, is stopped mid-sentence as the group of excited streetkids point up at the distant ceiling.

As abruptly as it had vanished, the soda bottle returned and promptly continued falling. Now somehow even higher in the air than it had been to begin with. The glass hurtles toward the ground once more, swishing past the three wide-eyed scientists.

And then it's gone… again.

All eyes turn to the sky in wonder. Will it come back again? Is it gone? What's happening to it? Where is it going? _Can I go too?_

Then sure enough, the bottle pops back into existence as if it had never left. Uninterrupted, it continues its rapid descent toward the ground it seems unable to find.

A child's hand slips out and catches the soda bottle as if this was all the most normal thing in the world. With a big grin aimed at the confused adults, the kid takes a big drink of the apparently unharmed soda.

"Holy shit! That's so cool!" The other girl 'scientist' shouts, and her eyes light up as bright as the children's. She looks from one dumbstruck friend to the other, not even trying to contain her excitement. "Give me your shoe!"

Jane looks at Darcy, but it's obvious the physicist didn't even hear her. She's already lost in her own smartness. So with a roll of her eyes, Darcy turns to the still-staring man to her other side. "You. Give me your shoe." Darcy smiles mischievously and points down at Ian's shoes. The young man's goofy smile fades to a look of confusion with just a hint of irritation.

"I don't see why-"

"Intern. Shoe. Now." Darcy's wide grin shrinks with every word. She stares at Ian, waiting, suddenly looking completely serious. A flustered Ian looks anywhere but at Darcy's eyes, those cold piercing eyes.

And thirty-two seconds later…

Ian slips off his sneaker and places it in Darcy's outstretched hand.

The smile is immediately back on Darcy's face, and all is forgiven. A gleeful giggle escapes her as she turns back to the railing separating her from the long fall to the apparently oh-so-hard-to-reach concrete below.

Seeing all hints of seriousness gone from the girl, Ian rolls his eyes at Darcy's back. "I hate it when you do that." Darcy only giggles and holds the captured shoe over the railing. And she lets go.

The shoe plummets towards the ground and blinks out, just like the bottle. Darcy eagerly looks up to watch for it to blink back. Even still-somewhat-bitter-about-losing-his-shoe Ian steps up to the railing to watch the miracle of his shoe falling from the ceiling.

…But nothing happened.

More than double the usual time has passed, and still Ian's shoe remains gone. Darcy and Ian's faces fall, and they turn instead to the children, who not only don't look surprised but apparently find the case of the missing shoe to be quite hilarious.

A young girl leaning on the rail bites her lip to hold back her laughter. "Sometimes they don't come back."

Ian stares blankly at the little girl, but a small smile cracks on Darcy's face. She whirls around, looking for anything else she can throw over the railing. As fun as it had been before, the game had just changed. Now it's a matter of throwing something and seeing if it would even come back at all. The excitement is nearly unbearable.

Darcy settles for a couple small pieces of scrap metal she finds on the floor behind her. They blinked out and back three times before bumping into each other. Both pieces tumble off track enough that they manage to find their way to the warehouse floor below.

The kids and Ian join in, tossing anything they can over the railing and counting how many times it fell before not coming back.

Darcy keeps her eyes on the rain of trash falling repeatedly from the ceiling, as she sits down on a set of stairs and kicks off her shoes. Moments later as everyone is once again looking for things to throw, Darcy jumps up and tosses both of her socks over the edge. She watches gleefully as they both disappear below and only one reappears above.

Ian tosses something over her shoulder. The object jingles as it sails through the air. The noise vanishes, along with the shiny little metal things.

They don't come back.

Darcy turns to look at Ian, her smile slipping somewhat. "Were those the van keys?"

Ian says nothing. The smile on his face vanishes like the keys, and he just looks down at the ground.

The children snicker, but Darcy only rolls her eyes. The game suddenly isn't so fun now that she's gonna have to walk all the way back to the apartment she's sharing with Jane.

…Speaking of Jane…Where is she?

Jane hadn't joined in the fun of throwing all nonessential (and one essential) possessions into the mysterious-portally-thing. Now that she thought about it… Jane hadn't been there for that at all. The last time Darcy can remember seeing the physicist is when she had asked her for her shoe. She must've wandered off to do more "research" or whatever. Only Jane could make something so cool sound like work. But that's Jane. She had her own weird sense of fun, but at least she usually let Darcy have a bit of fun of her own too.

Darcy doesn't usually make a habit of worrying about following Jane around when she wanders like this (and she wanders a lot), but this time it seems they will have an annoyingly long walk home, and she's getting hungry. So, she lets out a sigh as she glares up at Ian. "Let's just find Jane and get out of here."

Darcy heads upstairs, and Ian heads down. After a few minutes of not finding the physicist, even the gang of kids start looking for her. They search the entire warehouse, and nobody finds so much as a trace of Jane Foster. Genuine concern blooming in her stomach, Darcy tells everyone to check outside and in the nearby area too. And Jane is still nowhere to be found.

Ian sits down on the rough pavement and leans back against the cool metal of the warehouse. Three streetkids drop down beside him, looking bored and tired. Darcy paces anxiously in front of them all, tugging at her hair as her thoughts race from bad to worse.

"What if she got lost? She could be anywhere right now, wandering hopelessly around in the streets. That woman has NO sense of direction!

"Or what if she wandered down a dark alley somewhere, and some guy grabbed her. She could've been robbed, or killed, or kidnapped!

"Or maybe SHIELD heard about the magic truck and disappeary reappeary bottles, and they came and took her away to some super secret lab or something! …And they didn't take us!

"We have to call the cops!" Darcy's eyes are as wide as saucers by the time she reaches her conclusion. Finally stopping for breath, she looks to Ian, waiting for him to respond. But the intern's only answer is to give her an irritatingly blank look. "Like, right now!"

"Oh, uhh right." Ian fumbles in his pockets for a minute before producing his cell phone. As soon as the phone is in his hand, the kids around him scramble to their feet and take off running. Ian watches them disappear into the shadows before looking to Darcy in confusion. "What's wrong with them? Was it… something I said?"

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Just call already."  
Ian nods and calls the police.

Darcy sits down on the cold ground and stares up into a grey sky, hoping her friend is okay, wherever she is.


	2. Chapter 2 - Rain, Jane, Go Away

"I don't know what happened! One minute she was here, then she wasn't. Maybe she wandered off, maybe someone took her! Why don't you find Jane, then we can just ask her?!" Darcy had been talking to the police for over ten minutes and had made no progress. Nobody seems capable of getting past why the three of them had been out here to begin with. Nobody believes Darcy's ramblings about "fresh air" and "going for a walk." And nobody is looking for the still missing Jane Foster.

Movement in her periphery vision catches Darcy's attention, and she looks towards the warehouse. A lone figure walks out into the fading sunlight.

"Jane!"

Darcy races to her dazed friend and throws her arms around her, overwhelmingly relieved to see the physicist unharmed. Jane stiffens uncomfortably, and Darcy releases her. The newly-returned physicist stares at the bright blue flashing lights and swarm of police officers behind Darcy. And there is no small amount of irritation in her voice when she turns on Darcy. "You called the cops?!"

Darcy's mouth drops open in disbelief; Jane is mad at her, after how worried she's had her? Does she not realize-

"Jane, you've been gone for five hours!"

Jane cuts off mid-sentence, looking as if she'd been slapped. "...What?"

She didn't know! "Where did you go?"

Jane is interrupted by a loud boom of thunder. Darcy flinches slightly, and when she looks up again, she is surprised to find that it's not raining any more... at least not on her and Jane. Darcy looks around at the curtain of rain surrounding them but somehow not actually landing anywhere near them. Looking up, she sees no possible explanation for the giant invisible umbrella. So Darcy does what she always does when she doesn't understand something, she stares at Jane. Thus she was sorely disappointed to see Jane is apparently too busy staring at something else to even the notice the awesomeness going on around her. Shocked and a little irritated, Darcy slowly turns around to see what could possibly have her friend gawking like that.

There, standing under his own giant invisible umbrella, is Thor.

And just like that. Darcy is wearing the same stunned expression as her friend. She stands back and watches as Jane starts walking towards the big blonde guy in armor. Darcy smiles, thinking she's going to witness some sweet reunion type moment when suddenly... a torrent of rain comes down on her head, instantly soaking her and washing away all thoughts of sappy love scenes. The magic-umbrella-thing had only been there for Jane. "Typical." Darcy hugs herself in a vain attempt to keep warm against the freezing rain and doesn't wait long before hurrying after her friend.

Happily within the magical umbrella gain, Darcy pops up next to the two lovebirds. "So, I'm pretty sure we're getting arrested." Jane looks at Darcy startled, as if suddenly being pulled back to her world.

And then understanding hits Jane. "Excuse me a second." The physicist walks purposefully towards the line of cop cars with their brilliant blue lights.

Not in any hurry to go back over to the cops who wanted to haul her away or to the rain falling outside Thor's magic umbrella, Darcy turns instead to the god of thunder. The metal of his armor is shiny even in the dim sunlight and reflects the pretty blue of the police lights. The well-fitting armor shows off the strong muscles beneath. Darcy pokes Thor's armor. "Look at you, still all muscley and stuff."

The big blonde guy mumbles something in response, but it is clear his full attention is still on Jane Foster. Darcy rolls her eyes and turns to watch Jane argue with the cops, maybe it would get interesting.

Jane and the policeman in charge begin talking, and it quickly escalates to an argument. Unable to hear over the surrounding storm, Darcy begins edging closer to the argument and the edge of the no-rain circle. But when the cop reaches out to grab Jane's arm, Darcy starts running towards them, ready to help her friend.

As soon as the man's hand closes around Jane's arm, a blast of what looks like black and red smoke erupts from the physicist. The officer is thrown back away from Jane to slam into his car. All of the other officers are pushed back onto the ground, in varying stages of disorientation. One of the cop cars is flipped onto its side. And Darcy is hurled flat on her back, her head bouncing off the cold wet pavement. Thor, far enough away to be unaffected by the blast, runs to Jane as she staggers weakly. He wraps his strong arms around her just before she can fall to the ground.

Darcy watches them through blurry vision. She stumbles to her feet and fights a wave of nausea as the world seems to spin around her. She makes her way, somewhat unsteadily, towards her friends, as Thor scoops Jane up into his arms. Finally close enough she thinks she will be heard, Darcy opens her mouth to ask what the hell had just happened, but no words make it out. A brilliant multi-colored beam of light shoots down from the sky, crashing down right in front of her and enveloping Thor and Jane.

Darcy instantly recognizes the light, even with her mind still being a bit fuzzy from hitting her head. She's seen this before, in New Mexico, the last time Thor left for Asgard. She tries to reverse directions to avoid the magical light, but as unsteady and dizzy as she is, the maneuver is more than she can manage. Darcy trips over her own feet and falls face first into the blinding rainbow light of the Bifrost.


	3. Chapter 3 - Over the Edge

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry it's been so long since my last update. I'm back to working on the story a when I can now, but I don't have much free time any more. So, it will still be a while between updates, just hopefully not nearly as long as it has been for this one.**

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"Welcome to Asgard."

With a pained groan, Darcy pushes herself up onto her elbows, so she can look at whoever spoke to her. Towering over her is a large man in gold armor. There is a hint of a smile on his face as he looks down on the little Midgardian woman who came through the Bifrost only to immediately fall and slide across the perfectly polished floor on her face. "...Wow." Darcy picks herself up off the floor and, with great effort, manages to walk up the three steps without falling to stand in front of the gold-armored man. "Uhh... thanks. I'm-"

"Darcy Lewis." The Asgardian smiles when the girl's eyes widen in surprise. "I have seen you a number of times with the other mortal woman who just arrived." He looks over his shoulder, indicating to Darcy where Jane and Thor are now currently walking away along the Bifrost. "I am Heimdall, Gatekeeper of Asgard." The man lifts his head slightly as he speaks, clearly proud of his job.

Darcy's eyes light up at the man's name. He was in that book of Norse myths Erik took from the library back in New Mexico! Heimdall smiles at her as if he already knows what she's thinking. And he probably does! "That is so cool." Darcy starts feeling excited at the idea of talking to another actual Asgardian she'd read about in Selvig's book. "So, do you see like everything at once or just the important things? Or are you able to just stop seeing everything? 'Cause let's face it, there are just some things no one wants to see. I-"

The Gatekeeper lifts his hand, indicating for the mortal girl to stop speaking. Darcy falls silent, only now that she's quiet does she realize how fast she'd been talking, and how like Jane she sounded with all her questions. A problem she would have to work on later. But she is still curious about all of this weird Asgardian magic power stuff, so she really hopes golden-armor-guy will answer at least some of her questions.

But he doesn't. Heimdall chuckles and smiles at the girl. "Perhaps it is time you rejoin your friends. It appears they are not interested in waiting for you."

Darcy looks past Heimdall to see Jane and Thor half-way across the bridge now. She smirks as she begins walking towards the massive circular doorway. "They never are." Still not completely steady on her feet, Darcy trips and very nearly tumbles down to the floor yet again. Quickly recovering, she hurries toward the bridge outside, inwardly thankful that Heimdall hadn't laughed at her or commented on how pathetically clumsy she had been ever since she got here.

Just as Darcy passes through the doorway, Heimdall calls after her. "It was nice to meet you, Miss Lewis. Be sure you mind the edge. It is a very long way down."

Darcy looks over her shoulder to see Heimdall with his back to her, moving to stand on the other side of the room, looking out at the world's beyond. His warning echoing in her mind Darcy steps over to the edge of the Bifrost and looks down over the edge.

Heimdall was right. It's a very, very, _very_ long way down. Darcy looks down into what looks to her like endless space. There are swirls of varying shades of black, purple, and blue. Stars spiral everywhere below her. Off to her right she can see a dark patch of pure nothingness, even the stars seem to avoid that sad spot. She wonders if that is what a black hole really looks like.

Darcy's stomach twists as she stares at that eternal nothingness, and she takes a hurried step backward. The idea of falling over the edge is breath-taking, sickening, paralyzing. Who knows how long you would fall, what you would see, where you would end up? Darcy shakes her head and begins walking across the bridge in the direction Jane and Thor had gone, though she can't shake the chill of the darkness she had stared into. Darcy Lewis has no doubt in her mind that to go over the edge would surely mean to go "over the edge" in more ways than one. Suppressing a shiver, she hurries after her friends.

Despite nearly running to catch up, by the time Darcy reaches the end of the Bifrost, Jane and Thor are nowhere to be seen. Darcy sighs as she looks up and down empty streets. She picks a street and starts walking, unsure if it's the right direction or the wrong way entirely. When she gets bored of that street, she chooses another. Not ten minutes go by before Darcy forgets she's supposed to be looking for Jane and Thor. They don't know she's here, and they probably don't want her here anyway. Whenever she does catch up to them, they'll probably just send her back home. And when's the next chance Darcy Lewis, average mortal Earth girl who is not dating a god, will get to just stroll down the streets of Asgard? Oh, right, never. So, with no further ado, Darcy goes exploring.

She wanders on streets of smooth grey stone, lined with sand-colored buildings. Everything is simple but somehow has a beauty to it she can't quite seem to place. A gentle breeze carries with it the intoxicating smell of food and the sound of voices up ahead. Curious, Darcy walks towards where she thinks it's all coming from.

Darcy stands in the shadows and peaks around the corner of a building. Sprawled out on the street ahead is some type of marketplace. Dozens of people are walking about, laughing or talking excitedly. The Asgardians wear dresses and tunics in rich colors as they mill about the various stalls of the market. Some stalls are weighed down by exotic fruits that make Darcy's mouth water just looking at them. Others show off dazzling trinkets or intricately woven garments. Darcy Lewis has never been the kind of girl to get overly enthusiastic about shopping, but the scene before her is enough to get even her excited.

Darcy glances down at the clothes she is wearing. Her jeans and T-shirt won't exactly fit in with these people. She frowns and thinks for a minute. Looking out at the swarm of people in the street, Darcy shrugs and steps out into the crowd. There are so many people, what are the odds anyone will even notice her?

She weaves her way through the crowd, looking in awe at all the little wonders around her. No one even gives the lone strangely-dressed Midgardian a second glance as they go about their business.

One stall in particular catches Darcy's eye as she walks by, so much so that she can't help but stop and stare for moment. This one is quite small compared to most of the others, and the objects it displays so out of place in Asgard that for an instant, Darcy has to wonder if she's dreaming and has been all along. On the table before her, is a layout of things straight from her own world. There are two ipods, a can of soda, a huge pair of jeans, a bright red fedora with a purple feather on top, a Stark phone, and a few other items ranging from semi-expensive tech to stuff that looks like it came from somebody's trash can. Standing behind the stall is a short Asgardian man in a leather tunic and trousers and a bright green hoodie. He wears on of those huge fake smiles that can only belong to a salesman.

The vendor's eyes light up, and his smile stretches even wider, as he catches Darcy staring his way. "Welcome, pretty lady. Can I interest you in some of Midgard's finest?"

Darcy lifts an eyebrow at the man. "Finest? I'll give you that's _pretty_ sweet ipod you got there, but some of this looks like stuff I threw out last week."

"_Oh_." The salesman puts a hand to his face as if Darcy had physically struck him. "You wound me. I assure you, you will find no finer Midgardian wares in all of Asgard."

Darcy looks around at the nearby stalls of the marketplace and shrugs. "Guess you got a point there. I haven't seen anyone else around here selling Earth junk."

"No, I should say not. These are far from the most commonly traded goods in the city, but they fetch a nice price among those who like the occasional exotic conversation starter. I dare say I have never encountered someone as bold as yourself to be wearing their fashion so casually as to market. You have my greatest respect, lady."

Biting her lip, Darcy looks down at her clothes. She forces a smile as she turns her head back to the man before her. "Uhh thanks... I think." She shakes her head and quickly shifts the conversation from herself. "So how much _does_ stuff like this go for around here?"

The man tilts his head and fixes Darcy with a queer look. "Surely a woman with as much Midgardian attire as yourself should already be familiar with the value of such items?"

Darcy shrugs again, trying to act naturally. "I'm a bit new around here."

The salesman lifts his eyebrows at her, and his smile begins slowly returning. He looks her up and down as if she were an item for sale. Making up his mind about the girl, he gives a single nod. "I see. Very well then. If that is the case, then perhaps the clothing of one of my neighbors would better suit your needs. If I may... suggest a trade, yes?" When Darcy says nothing, the salesman continues his pitch. "I shall purchase for you whatever outfit you would like from my friend here," he waves his hand at the stall to his right. "In exchange for the outfit you wear now."

Darcy looks herself over again. She's wearing her favorite shoes, but other than that, she's not overly attached to her clothes, especially with them still being a bit wet from the rain. Besides, having some Asgardian clothes does sound pretty cool. Darcy smiles and says, "Alright. You've got yourself a deal."

"Excellent!" The salesman claps his hands together, clearly excited. So with each of them thinking they are getting the better deal, the man hurries around his booth, and the two walk over to the neighboring stall. "Pick out whatever you like."

Darcy stares open-mouthed at all of the brightly colored fabrics before her. They aren't as over-the-top as most of what she's seen in the marketplace, but they're all still so different from anything she would have found back home, except for maybe at some kind of renaissance festival or something. After several minutes of sorting through fine clothes and sparkling gold, the salesman walks back towards his stall with Darcy's new clothes delicately draped over his arm. Directing the girl to a place she could change her clothes without prying eyes, they completed their deal. Darcy hands over her street-clothes and steps out onto the street, wearing a dark green velvet tunic, black leather pants and boots, and a series of gold bangles on her wrist. The salesman had tried to convince her that she would be beautiful in one of the longer styled dresses like most of the women out today are wearing, but Darcy wasn't one for dressing up too much on Earth, and she wouldn't so easily be convinced to do so in Asgard. So, she walks away from the stall, fitting in with the crowd yet still comfortably herself.

"You ever find yourself in the city again, I shall always welcome another trade, milady." The salesman flashes his huge grin at Darcy Lewis one last time as he waves goodbye.

Darcy lets out a sigh of relief when she finally leaves the crowded market behind. The quiet is almost eerie as she walks down a deserted street. The road ahead winds up towards what Darcy can only think to call a big gold palace on a hill. Since that sounds like the kinda thing Thor would live in, she heads towards it. Maybe she'll find her friends and see if Jane's okay again yet, or _maybe_ she'll get back at them for ditching her and go exploring instead.

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**Author's Notes:**

**So, this chapter feels a little random to me, but I wanted a way for Darcy to be able to blend in a little better for what comes next. I figure the Midgardian clothes would be a dead give away she doesn't belong, so... they had to go.**


	4. Chapter 4 - The Shadow that Wasn

**Author's Note:**

**I've pretty well decided by this point that my timeline, compared to that in the movie, will be somewhat skewed. Though the movie doesn't come right out and say how much time passes between each particular scene, I feel like it wasn't a whole lot, and I need more time for Darcy's story to pan out without being rushed. So, rather than try to rush the story to fit, I'm just going to work with same/similar events running on my own timeline. This shouldn't really affect the story much, but if it feels like there's more time passing between major events than the movie suggests, that's because there probably is.**

* * *

The clang of clashing swords echoes through the dust-filled air.

Darcy Lewis leans against a railing of polished marble. The stone is cool beneath her crossed arms, a pleasant contrast to the heat of the day. She stands in the hallway, lined on one side by large window-like openings. It is in one of these openings that she leans on the railing to watch the events in the courtyard far below.

The courtyard is a mess of swirling dust, clashing weapons, and sweating bodies. Men in light armor swing swords and maces at each other to one side; a group of guys in plain Asgardian garb take turns shooting arrows at some targets in another; all about the grounds are small groups of men fighting with every weapon Darcy could ever name and then many more she couldn't.

Darcy watches them all excitedly from the shadows of her balcony high overhead. As much as she wants to get a closer look, there's no way she can go down there without drawing unwanted attention to herself. So far, she's gotten by through simply avoiding guards who might ask questions and people who might be a little _too_ friendly. Keeping to the shadows and a few clever tricks had served as good escapes wherever just being dressed like everyone else wasn't good enough.

Wandering about the palace, Darcy has seen ladies in fine dresses and serving maids in simple but fine clothing, men in varying types of armor and men who probably thought they would never need something as foolish as metal clothes, rooms full of treasure and rooms full of food, but the coolest so far has to be all the sparring going on in the courtyard now. Seeing cool things while wandering around places you're not supposed to be is fun of course, but it gets a little boring when you've been at it for more than a couple hours. If you've seen one over the top fancy-schmancy room, you've seen them all, right? A change of pace was definitely in order.

"Come on, Fandral. You swing like a girl!"

A man in the center of the courtyard spins to look at his insultor, nearly taking a sword to the head for his sudden lack of attention to his sparring partner.

Laughing teasingly, a woman steps out into the courtyard. Her armor glints in the brilliant sunlight, and her black hair flies loose about her shoulders. She walks steadily towards the man she called out in the courtyard.

"Oh, and are you going to do better, _Lady_ Sif?" The big man whom Fandral had been sparring with now steps up beside him. A cheerful grin spreads across the man's bearded round face as he watches his friends' banter play out.

"Don't I always?" Sif draws her sword and twirls it in front of her, eyeing the two men as they turn their weapons on her. "So this is how you want to play then?" The woman looks at the two men in turn, and when their only response is to raise their weapons, she smirks and nods her head. "So be it. Let's play."

Without waiting for them to attack first, Sif dives to her left, slashing up at Volstagg as she hits the ground. The man stumbles back a step as he deflects her blow.

In one fluid movement, Sif is on her feet again, already raising her sword to block a swing at her side from Fandral. Using her sword, she shoves his away from her and out to the side. Taking advantage of the opening, Sif kicks Fandral in the stomach, successfully knocking him on his back in the dirt.

Volstagg lets out a great bellow as he charges at the woman. She spins to see him charging towards her with his sword raised high. She quickly raises her own weapon just in time to catch her attacker's, the blades hovering mere inches from her face. With a determined grunt, Sif pushes back with her own blade, forcefully moving the deadly metal away from her head.

From the corner of her eye, she spots Fandral on his feet and coming at her from the side. Sif abruptly disengages from Volstagg and sidesteps out of harms way as his suddenly unhindered sword swings down to stab into the ground. She lashes out at the awkwardly held blade, knocking it out of er friend's hands.

Volstagg's sword thuds in the dirt a few feet away form him. And before he has a chance to so much as _try_ to retrieve it, Sif lands a solid blow with the flat of her sword on the man's great gut. The man lets out a slight groan as the air is knocked form him. Then with a bow and a winded chuckle, Volstagg makes his way to the sidelines.

No time to rejoice in her first victory, Sif immediately turns her full attention to Fandral. The blonde man paces before her, eyeing her as a cat would a mouse. Sif's eyes narrow in response.

Tightening her grip on her sword, Sif dashes towards Fandral. The two bat their swords together a couple times before taking a step back from one another. Fandral lunges at Sif, but the woman dances to the side. The woman drives her elbow down into the bend of Fandral's extended arm. He barely manages to keep a hold on his sword as his arm jerks violently.

Before he can recover, Sif places her blade at Fandral's throat. The blonde man freezes in place. His eyes shift down to the deadly metal at his neck, and he smiles. "Well met. Though I thought we might have had you that time."

Sif laughs and withdraws her sword, returning it to its sheath. "What would ever give you that idea?"

"Well, you have been a bit distracted as of late."

"Me? Distracted?" Sif cocks a questioning eyebrow at Fandral.

"Yes, ever since Thor returned with his mortal woman, you've been rather... off."

Sif's smile slips, and her eyes narrow for an instant. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she waves her hand towards Volstagg at the edge of the courtyard. "Come. Let's go see about lunch. Wouldn't want Volstagg to waste away."

Fandral chuckles and nods in agreement, glad to leave behind the touchy subject of Thor's woman before Sif got the idea of putting her blade to his throat again. He turns and walks to where their friends waits for them.

Sif shuts her eyes and lifts her face to the warm shining sun. With a tired sigh, she opens her eyes. As she looks up at the upper levels of the palace, her breath catches in her throat, and her eyes open a little wider.

Darcy lets out a soft gasp as Sif stares straight at her, where she stands in the shadows. She quickly steps back away from the opening.

Sif blinks at where she thought she'd seen a shadow watching her. A hand clasps her shoulder, and she barely restrains the reflex to strike at its owner.

Fandral stands beside her with a look of concern and curiosity. "You alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Not a ghost. A shadow." She stares a moment longer at the dark corridor up above, before finally lowering her head to look at Fandral. "For a moment, I thought I saw-" Sif stops and shakes her head. "Never mind. Let's be going. We should recover our strength while we can. We have to retrieve the rest of the Vanir prisoners come morning." She leads the way back over to Volstagg and out of the courtyard, shaking off the chill from seeing that shadow. The shadow that once watched the world from that corner is locked away with no means of escape. The shadow wasn't there; it couldn't have been there.

He wasn't there.


	5. Chapter 5 - Lost in the Dark

Darcy wanders the depths of the palace, her curiosity flaring up once more. Upstairs had quickly gotten boring; one fine room after another, fancy shit all over the place, everything the picture of perfection, and nobody even giving her a second glance. But down here, things are different. Polished marble has given way to smooth-but-dull stone; fine furnishings have been replaced with emptiness; and the few well-to-do looking people are nowhere to be seen. and instead Darcy has to constantly duck the attention of heavily armored guards. The mortal girl dashes from shadow to shadow, avoiding the careful watch of pacing soldiers. As one passes by the crevice she's hiding in, she can't help but notice he looks really bored. Whatever he's guarding must not be causing _that_ much trouble.

The guard disappears around the corner, and Darcy steps out of her shadow. She walks down the narrow passageway with her eyes set on the heavily detailed doorway ahead of her. The ornate stonework seems out of place in the otherwise dull corridor, and Darcy's curiosity is piqued. She makes her way down the dimly lit hallway, keeping on her toes so her steps won't echo. As she gets closer, she can see that the hallway tees off at the double doors ahead, another hallway disappearing in shadow to the left and the right.

Darcy stops in front of the doors. She has to tilt her head all the way back in order to see the whole thing. The doors must be at least ten feet tall and wide enough for six men to walk through at once.

She lifts her hand to push open one of the doors. The stone is warm beneath her fingers, a sharp contrast to the coolness surrounding her. The heat catches her off-guard, and she hesitates, just staring at her hand like it's at fault for the strange sensation now pulsing through her fingertips.

"Stop!"

Darcy gasps and jerks her head to look over her shoulder. The bored guard is standing at the far end of the hallway behind her, looking as shocked to see her as she is to see him. Darcy freezes like a deer in headlights as she stares at the heavily armored man. His eyes narrow, and he reaches for his sword. And-

Darcy is gone. The second the guard's hand found the hilt of his sword, Darcy took off running down the hallway to her right. The walls echo with the sound of the guard's thudding footfalls and Darcy's jingling bracelets. Not weighed down by armor like the guard, Darcy continues to distance herself from her pursuer, but that damn _jingling_! Those bangles have gone from cute accessory to a hey-I'm-over-here alarm!

Still running as fast as she can through the strange dim halls, Darcy clamps a hand over her bracelets. The clinging stops. Darcy shoves them down over her hand, and they all crash down on the floor. The ringing of the twelve metal bands on the stone floor echoes off the walls in every direction. The near deafening clatter covers both Darcy's light footsteps and the guard's heavy ones.

Darcy runs until her breath comes in short gasps and her legs feel as if they've turned to jelly. Looking over her shoulder and seeing no sign of anyone following her any more, she slows to a stop. With fumbling steps and ragged breathing, the mortal girl goes to slide down the wall to sit on the cool stone floor. She pulls her knees up to her chest and drops her head.

While she tries to get her breathing under control, Darcy thinks back to how she got here... and she has no idea. Whilst running away from that guard, she made so many turns and followed so many twists in the hallway, there's no way she could find her way back to where she came from now. No idea how to get back to the weird door... no idea how to get back to the huge staircase that brought her down here... no idea where _here _even is any more... no idea how big this creepy basement of the palace is... no idea how long it will take her to find her way back out, if she can find her way back out... no idea when someone will find her to help her get out and back home... because no one even knows she's here...

Darcy roughly shakes her head. Those thoughts certainly aren't getting her anywhere. She leans her head back on the rough wall behind her and takes a deep breath. Time to get going.

Pushing herself up off of the floor, Darcy looks up and down the hallway. She could try to retrace her steps and get back out the way she came, or she could keep going and see if she can find another way back upstairs. Her chances are no better either way, so... for curiosity's sake, she keeps going.

After a few more twists and turns, she sees a doorway on her right. Torches burn on either side of it, its only guards. Darcy goes to it and stops in the torchlight. This doorway is average size unlike the last that caught her attention, and there's not even a door in it. No, the interesting thing about this one is what lies beyond it. A spiral staircase leads down into darkness. No torches line this path; all that can be seen is that which is lit by the torches in the doorway at the top.

To Darcy's disappointment, the stairs only go down, not up. So, it's not a way out. Or is it? Maybe by this point, she has to go down to go up?

Darcy looks around the hallway and, seeing no better options, takes a step towards the staircase. She hesitates, peering down into the pitch black This seems like a _great_ way to fall and break your neck. Darcy looks up at the torches on the wall again. They look to be nothing more than a metal stick that was _somehow_ on fire slid through a metal ring on the wall. So, the mortal girl carefully tries to lift one from its place on the wall. She's pleasantly surprised to find it slides free easily.

With a torch in one hand and the other hand braced against the slick curved wall of the staircase, Darcy takes her first step down. Slowly so as not to lose her balance, she descends down into the darkness.

The stairs seem to go on forever, going down and down around and around. Darcy's already gone a long way down, and there's still no sign of the bottom. Still continuing down, she looks back and up. Maybe coming down here hadn't been such a good idea after all.

Maybe not looking where she was going hadn't been such a good idea either. The moral girl misses a step. Darcy's heart skips a beat, and the air turns to ice in her lungs, as she feels herself pitch forward. She tumbles down, striking her head on the steps below her. The torch is knocked from her hand and rolls down ahead of her. The world is reduced to spinning shadows and flashes of blood red torchlight.

When Darcy finally comes to a stop, she's lying face-down on a smooth stone floor, her head swimming from having hit it so many times on the way down. Lucky for her, she had been closer to the bottom than she had realized, otherwise her painful little spill could have turned into something fatal. And wouldn't that have sucked? Darcy Lewis makes it all the way to Asgard just to trip on some stair and die.

Darcy lets out a small laugh as she carefully picks herself up from the floor. As the shadows begin to clear from her vision, she rises to her feet, leaving her torch where it fell. Now that she can see straight again, she notices that it's much brighter down here. In fact, it's painfully bright compared to the darkness the mortal girl's been wandering in for who knows how long now.

She stands at the bottom of the spiral staircase and waits for her eyes to adjust to the bright light. And what she sees when she can finally stand to look around, makes her immediately consider running back up to the shadows from whence she came.


	6. Chapter 6 - Monster in a Box

**Author's Note:**

**Very sorry about my lousy update times. It's just really hard for me to find the time to write these days. I promise I haven't given up on this story yet though, and I'll be updating pieces to it whenever I get the chance.**

* * *

Darcy stands at the edge of a hall of light grey polished stone. No torches light this room. Separated by small stretches of the stone walls, are white rooms, as far as Darcy can see down either side of the hall. The brilliant light here seems to come from within these little rooms, though there is no visible light source there either. While the lighting is a little odd, it is far from being what has Darcy frozen where she stands. No, that would be the contents of all these little white rooms. Each room is sealed off by a shimmering yellow barrier, and though she doesn't even know what it is, Darcy Lewis loves that yellow wall of light right now. Contained in each of these box-like rooms are creatures and people that just looking at makes a shiver run down the mortal girl's spine.

There are creatures with mouths full of razor-like teeth, men in crude armor whose eyes had been locked on the girl from the moment she came into sight, and some _things_ Darcy could only describe as monsters. Darcy takes a few halting steps into the hall, and the creature locked away to her right immediately begins roaring and charges at her. Darcy lets out a frightened squeak and stumbles away. The creature hits the barrier, and a ripple of lighter yellow goes out across the entire barrier. But the creature is bounced back away from it. The beast lets out a pained roar and drops down to lie on the floor and sulk. Darcy can only stare with eyes wide as saucers. Finally, she remembers to breathe. Darcy's ears ring with laughter, and she looks breathlessly around her. The men in their own cages are all laughing at her and calling out to one another.

Her terror passing, Darcy forces a slight smile and laughs along for a moment. Swallowing her fear, Darcy walks up to a room with about ten rough-looking men with wildly painted faces in it. She crosses her arms and locks her eyes on the man who steps up to the barrier directly in front of her. "So...any chance you guys know a way out'a here?"

The warriors burst into laughter again. The man sneers down at the puny Earth girl. "You will never get out." And he slams his fist into the barrier right next to their faces. Brighter bursts of yellow shoot out from his hand, and as he presses in, the barrier bubbles out slightly. The brute's voice lowers to a threatening growl. "You shall die down here, woman." Suddenly questioning if a little wall of shiny light is really the best means of locking up people like this, Darcy lets out a frightened little squeal and turns to run the other way.

The mortal girl races down the hallway, bombarded from every side by cruel shouting and vicious roaring. Darcy runs faster. An abrupt turn at the end of the hall reveals that the prison is a maze of cells; up one hall, down another, all somewhere different, yet all in the same place. After the halls had doubled back on themselves a handful of times, Darcy can finally see stairs! At the end of this next hallway is a set of glorious simple rough stone steps leading up!

A hint of a smile ghosts across Darcy's face as she sprints for the stairs. Over her own ragged breathing, Darcy catches the sound of heavy footsteps somewhere up ahead. Two tall shadows appear on the stairs, their owners surely not far beyond. And Darcy's almost-smile is gone. The mortal girl skids to a stop and looks around, desperate for an escape. With nowhere else to go, she looks to the stairs again. The stairway goes up several steps and then splits off to the right and to the left.

Darcy shakes her head. She knows this is a bad idea, but she runs straight for the stairs. She can hear the guards clomping down the stairs to the right, so she throws herself at the ones on the left. The mortal slips out of sight around the corner of their own stairway. Had these men been paying better attention to that which was not within the cells, they might have noticed a flash of black hair and green clothes. But instead, they continued down and into the dungeon below.

The mortal girl lets out a sigh of relief and sinks down to sit on the stairs. She can here the two men shouting at the prisoners now. At first their voices are barely distinguishable from those that they are shouting at, but gradually the clamor settles down. The guards' shouted threats and banging spears fill the halls of the dungeon until calm is restored. When silence falls over the prison, the guards return to the stairs and begin their ascension, grumbling to one another about getting stuck on prison duty.

"Prison duty. Pft. More like over-glorified babysitting if you ask me."

"Yeah, well no one's askin' you. that's why we're here."

The first guard lets out a sound reminiscent of a growl. "Did you hear what them lot were going on about?" He waits a moment, but his companion only lifts an eyebrow at him. "Some of them was claimin' they'd seen a girl come through."

The second guard laughs loudly. "A girl? No maiden would be foolish enough to wander down here, even by accident."

Darcy sticks her tongue out at the guard as he passes out of sight around the curve of the stairs. While momentarily offended by the guard calling her foolish, she has to admit, he's got a point. Coming down here had not exactly been her best idea.

The sound of the guards' footsteps fade, leaving an eerie silence in the dungeon. Well, there's no going up that staircase. That would put a quick end to Darcy's adventures in god-land. She steps out on the main stairway and just stands there, considering her options at this point. She could go back the way she came, find her torch, and try to find another way out from where she started on the other side of the dungeon. Or she could go up the staircase on the left in hopes it leads out and not to more guards. Or she could go up the staircase on the right, turn herself in to the guards up there, and enjoy a quick and probably painless trip back home.

Darcy sighs and looks around again. This adventure is getting a bit less fun now that she's pretty lost, been scared half to death by homicidal prisoners, and is more than a little hungry. Darcy lets out another disappointed sigh. She's done. It's time to get out of here.

Darcy takes a couple steps up the right staircase to where she knows the guards are waiting. Then she stops. She will likely never be in Asgard again, and she wants one last look at the amazing things she's found here, even if said "amazing things" are limited to murderous prisoners right now. Besides, they're still pretty cool, right?

Darcy changes direction and heads back down the stairs into the dungeon. She stands at the foot of the stairs and stares down the long hallway of people, creatures, and monsters. Committing it all to memory, Darcy can't help but smile. This is one part of the palace Jane will probably never see. For once, Darcy Lewis knows and has seen things that the great Jane Foster never will.

Smug smile still on her face, Darcy turns to leave again. But something catches her eye, distracting and delaying her once again. She looks into the cell closest to her on her left. It's different from the others. This cell has furniture, and pretty nice furniture at that. And this cell only contains one man, in the same amount of space any other cell would have crowded ten men into. What makes this guy so special?

Darcy Lewis walks over to the lonely box. The man inside sits on a bed with his back against a plain white wall. He just sits there, reading a book, and either not noticing or choosing to ignore the girl looking in at him.

He has nearly shoulder-length black hair slicked back, with not a hair out of place. His piercing emerald eyes never stray from the pages before him. He is thin, maybe a little too thin, with a serious look that makes him look like he doesn't even know how to smile. But other than looking totally unhappy - and who wouldn't be, he is in a prison full of monsters after all - he is the most normal nonthreatening person down here.

"Hey, you!" The guy's bright green eyes dart up to lock onto her. "Yeah, you, angry-looking guy in a box by himself." The guy only glares at her from across the room. "Oh, come on. I won't bite, not that I could with the magic light thingy anyway."

The guy rolls his eyes and lays his book down on the bed beside him. He rises from the bed and walks slowly towards the girl at the edge of this cell, looking bored and somewhat irritated for having his reading interrupted. "You're a long way from home, mortal."

Darcy frowns and looks down at herself. She's still wearing the Asgardian clothes she had traded for. She wears nothing that betrays her as being human. How had he known? "Is it really that obvious?"

The man smiles at her in a way that sends chills up Darcy's spine, and not the good kind. "Anyone from Asgard, as you are pretending to be, would have recognized me."

"And what makes you think I didn't?" Darcy puts her hands on her hips and lifts her head, trying for the look of I'm-better-than-you arrogance she'd seen on all the other Asgardians.

He laughs, making Darcy feel like the air was leaking form her phony inflated ego. "If you did, you would not dare to speak to me so." He scoffs and narrows his eyes at her. "If you were brave enough to speak to me at all."

Darcy bites her lip. Who is this guy?! "Fine, you got me. I'm not from your shiny city in the clouds. So who the hell are you? And what makes you so bad I'm supposed to be afraid to talk to you through a glowy wall that I'm guessing must be pretty damn hard to break? Ooh! And why do you get a box thing all to yourself, and all the others've got like twenty guys smushed in them?"

"You are certainly an inquisitive one, aren't you?"

Darcy waits, but the man says nothing more. "Really? I asked you three questions, and that's all I get?"

"Why should I answer to the likes of you, mortal?"

Darcy glares at the annoying guy in front of her and crosses her arms over her chest. "Fine. You know what? I don't care who you are. Just tell me how to get out of here without running into those guards up there, and I'll leave you alone with your miserable self."

The guy lifts an eyebrow at her before letting out a low laugh. "I think everyone here wants to know the answer to that one."

"Yeah, well, you're all locked up. I'm not. So tell me how to get out of here."

"I think I would rather watch you try to figure it out for yourself."

Darcy lets out a high pitched squeal of frustration and kicks at the magic barrier separating her from the guy that is currently driver her crazy. Darcy's booted foot passes through the barrier, striking the man on the other side. The girl's eyes open wide with shock. The man's jaw clenches in anger, and his eyes narrow at her again. "Careful, mortal. Or you may find yourself imprisoned here with me. And perhaps then you would learn why I am best left alone."

All Darcy can do is stare at her foot that had gone through the magic light wall thing like it wasn't even there, even though it was still obviously keeping everyone else here trapped insider of their boxes. "But... how? How did that even happen?!"

The man smirks at her. "How do you think they get so many warriors into their prisons without the others escaping? The barrier permits easy enough entrance. It is the exit that is the trick." He turns away form her, returning to his bed on the other side of the room. He sits down and reclines in the same position the girl had found him in, picking his book up once more. "Fortunate for the both of us, not enough of you passed through for the barrier to see fit to detain you."

Darcy just stares at him, still in shock over almost getting herself stuck in a weird magic cell in an Asgardian dungeon with a guy who she probably didn't want to know what he'd done to get put in here all by himself like this.

* * *

Darcy sits on the cool stone floor with her head on her knees, hugging herself tightly. Her exploration of Asgard had stopped being fun a long time ago. She'd been chased by guards, lost in pitch black hallways, stuck in a maze-like dungeon, and nearly accidentally gotten herself trapped in a cell as well. By now, she just wants to go home. She's considered several times just going up and surrendering herself to the guards she knows are at the top of the stairs behind her. But what if they thought she was an escaping prisoner and shove her into a cell? Or decided she wasn't supposed to be here, and shove her into a cell anyway for trespassing? She lifts her head enough to glance around at the monster filled cells around her. She shivers and quickly ducks her head again. She wouldn't survive ten minutes if she was shoved in any one of them...

So she sits there, trying to convince herself that if she doesn't look at them all, then they would simply disappear. If she could just fall asleep, she would wake up back in her bed in the little apartment she currently sharing with Jane in London.

Darcy Lewis sits there in the corner of the Asgardian dungeon for what feels like hours, before she finally falls asleep.


	7. Chapter 7 - A Safe Place

Darcy wakes to the sound of screams.

Her eyes fly open and her head snaps up just in time to see a strangely warped yellow barrier erupt into a million pieces of shimmering gold in the air. The resulting shock-wave is enough to bounce her head back against the stone wall and whip her tangled hair into her face.

By the time she gets her hair pulled from her mouth and eyes, a monstrous figure is standing in the hallway in front of the cell that had been blown open moments before. Darcy stares up at him with impossibly wide eyes. He seems to not even notice the pathetic mortal girl cowering in the floor. The brute moves to the cell across from his, lifts his fist, and with one motion destroys its barrier as well. A band of savage-looking men rush out of the cell, shouting battle cries as they run for the stairs next to Darcy. The mortal's breathe catches in her throat, and her heart skips a few beats as the horde surges past her.

The shouting of the guards upstairs joins with that of the escaping prisoners. Then there is the sounds of clashing metal, ominous thuds, and pained cries, Darcy whimpers in fear as she looks up the stairs, somewhat thankful she can't actually see what's happening up there.

A strange sound in front of her causes her to snap her head back around. The big guy who escaped first had broken another barrier, releasing a wave of prisoners even meaner looking than the first. Darcy watches in horror as he goes around freeing all of Asgard's prisoners. A tide of murderous-looking brutes runs for the stairs, to their freedom and revenge. Most take no notice of the trembling girl as they rush past. But some do.

A handful of escapees break from the pack at the sight of the woman they had seen run through the prison earlier that day. One of them roughly grabs the girl's arm and drags her to her feet before she even realizes what's happening.

Fight or flight reflexes kicking in, Darcy jerks her arm out of the brute's grip. Back on Earth, she always chose fight. But here, in an Asgardian dungeon in the middle of a prison break... Darcy Lewis is gonna run like hell.

She gets past the first guy, but the second shoves her as she tries to slip past him. Darcy tumbles towards a third, who slaps her hard across the face. The human lets out a pained cry as she falls to the rough stone floor. The taste of blood fills her mouth as the world seems to spin around her.

Darcy spits her blood on the ground and glares up at the man who hit her. They laugh and say stuff in a language Darcy doesn't understand. And even having no idea what the strange words meant, she did not like the sound of it.

Attacker Number 2 reaches for her. He grabs a fistful of her hair and starts to pull her up again. Gritting her teeth against the pain she knows is coming, Darcy throws all her weight backwards. Her startled attacker stumbles forward a step, not having expected her to put up much of a fight. So he is totally unprepared when the mortal girl kicks up at him, her foot connecting solidly between his legs.

The man shouts in pain and anger, and he releases Darcy's hair as he falls to his knees on the ground. The mortal scrambles backward, putting as much distance as she can between her and her attackers.

Attacker Number 1 just laughs at his comrade's pain, but Attacker Number 3 seems angry that the pathetic little girl dared to fight back. The man who had slapped her steps up and kicks her harshly in the side. Darcy's world spins as she rolls across the floor. When she stops, she is lying face down on the floor. She lifts her head weakly to see her attackers coming towards her once more. The man she kicked has a murderous gleam in his eyes as he picks himself up off the floor.

Darcy looks around desperately,m searching for a way out. She turns her head to her other side and looks up. She lies right outside of the magic yellow barrier of an unbroken cell.

A smile stretches across her face, and without thinking of anything beyond getting away from the three men coming after her, Darcy Lewis throws herself through the cell's magical barrier.

The men stop at the edge of the cell, glaring down at the girl on the floor just beyond their reach within the "safety" of a prison cell. They are still standing there when the sounds of fighting grows much louder. Moments later, a mob of Asgardian guards rush downstairs, pushing back the escaping prisoners. Darcy watches as the three warriors she saw earlier come swooping in, leading the pack. The men who had been after Darcy quickly turn to join in the fight, and the mortal woman can't help but smirk as the man who hit her is promptly cut down by the blonde man she saw before.

A loud thud resounds from the staircase, and Darcy's attention is drawn back over there. Thor thunders down the stairs, swinging his hammer in a devastating arc before him.

Darcy watches the massive brawl in a state of shock. The fight passes in a blur of motion. Thor and his friends are driving prisoners back into cells or killing them where they stand.

And then he's gone...

Thor disappears up the stairs, hurrying off to fight elsewhere. And then reality hit Darcy like a slap to the face. She had just missed her chance to get Thor's attention and have him get her out of here. "Wait! Thor! Thor! Get me the hell out's here!" Darcy's heart sinks even further as even the God of Thunder's shadow disappears up the stairs. "Okay, keep running. That's cool too! I'll just hang out here... in a dungeon... surrounded by a bunch of people killing each other... locked up with this guy... Thanks for nothing, big guy!"

Darcy freezes, finally realizing what she had done. She had escaped the chaos going on out there, but... what about the dangerous Asgardian criminal she had just jumped in a cell with? "Oh, shit..." She turns her head as slowly as possible and looks through the corner of her eyes, afraid to obviously turn around and look at the guy. He is standing in front of the magic yellow wall several feet to her left, staring out at the fight going on outside. so far, it seems he either hasn't noticed the mortal girl who's found her way into his cell or he's ignoring her.

Darcy goes back to watching the madness going on on the other side of the barrier. She'll deal with her new cellmate later. She tries to get the attention of a guard or friend of Thor when they pass near her, but no one pays her any mind, either not noticing her at all or dismissing her as just another prisoner. And before long, all of the prisoners are in their cells or dead on the floor, and the Asgardian warriors are all racing off to fight elsewhere.

And Darcy Lewis is left alone with a guy who she knows nothing about except that he must have done something pretty bad to get himself locked up alone down here. Even the other bad guys hadn't wanted to let this dude out of his cell... And now, Darcy's stuck in a confined space with him for who knows how long. This whole exploring Asgard thing just went from bad to absolutely fucking terrible!

With all of the excitement over outside the cell, Darcy finally forces herself to turn and face her new cellmate. He is still standing where he had been when she peaked over at him before. Only now, he is staring right at her.


	8. Chapter 8 - Hocus Pocus

"Uhh... Hi! I'm Darcy."

Silence.

"Looks like we're gonna be roomies for a while."

Silence.

"So... what's your name?"

Silence.

Darcy sighs and gets up from her place on the floor. She looks around, taking in her new surroundings. There's a bed over in the corner, a table and chair in the center, a few books stacked on the table, and... well, that's it really. Other than that, there's really just a bored Darcy and an angry-looking guy glaring at her from the other side of the room. So unless angry guy decides he feels like making conversation wither her sometime soon, Darcy Lewis is going to have a very boring stay in the Asgardian prison.

She sits down in the chair and, folding her arms on the table, lays her head down beside the stack of books. And while not really trusting that angry-guy won't kill her in her sleep, Darcy shuts her eyes. It's been a long day, night, couple days, who knows. All she knows or cares about right now is that she is exhausted and just wants to sleep. She just wants to wake up from this nightmare she's fallen into. She just wants to go home.

* * *

Darcy blinks groggily as she looks around the too-bright room. There's no way for her to judge what time it is down here; everything looks the exact same as when she fell asleep. But she feels like she slept for a long time. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and leans back in her chair. Darcy wonders where grumpy-guy's gone, so she twists around in the chair to look. She spies him lounging on his bed, reading, just like he was when she first saw him. Not seeing much else to do to entertain herself, she decides to follow her cellmate's example.

The bored mortal picks up the book off the top of the stack on the table and flips open the cover. She immediately groans in disappointment. The first page is covered in strange runes. Who reads runes?! She flips through the pages, looking hopefully for some writing in English. But no! The whole book is written in some old runes, and sure they look pretty, but they make no fucking sense!

Darcy tosses the book carelessly back on the table, nearly sending it skidding off the opposite side. Now needing something else to do, Darcy gets up from the table and stalks restlessly over to the magical yellow barrier keeping her stuck in here. She stops with her face mere inches from the barrier and stares at it. She stares at the shiny honeycomb-like pattern, and she stares through it, watching the slight waves of distortion in her vision caused by the magic barrier. Darcy follows the barrier all the way to the wall on the left. The yellow light disappears seamlessly into the wall. Looking up, she follows the barrier, watching if there is ever a point that it doesn't perfectly meet the ceiling. But it always does. She checks the right side and the floor in the same way, before finally plopping down on the floor near the center of the barrier, right back where she started, with nothing to show for it. Darcy sits in the floor with her legs pulled up beneath her, leaning so that her face is very nearly touching the magical wall.

What would happen if she touched it? Darcy lifts her hand and holds it up a hairsbreadth away from the barrier. She can feel a slight tingle in the palm of her hand.

"I would not recommend that."

Darcy's hand freezes where it is, and her head snaps around to look at her cellmate. He hasn't moved from where he's been sitting on his bed. His book is still held up, blocking most of his face from her view. But he spoke! She's sure she heard his voice... But he's not even looking at her. "What?"

The man's eyes shift towards her, and he lifts an eyebrow at her. But he says nothing, before returning his attention to his book.

Darcy rolls her eyes and turns back around. Before she could get distracted, she quickly closes the small distance between her hand and the barrier. At first, nothing happens. Then, the tingly feeling intensifies. Darcy tilts her head to the side, leaning even further forward in her curiosity. Then the tingling turns to stabbing burning pain. Darcy yelps in pain and springs back away from the now pulsing yellow magic barrier.

The breathless mortal lies on her back, staring at the shiny wall with wide eyes. The barrier ripples light out from where her hand had been, but even as she watches, the ripples slow and still. The barrier is calm again, like nothing ever happened. Darcy looks down at her hand. There are bright red marks in the barrier's honeycomb pattern tracing all over her palm and fingers. Her hand throbs in pain. She shakes it violently as if to sling off the pain.

Darcy turns to glare at her cellmate. He knew what would happen; it was obvious. And the best warning he could give was 'I wouldn't recommend that'?!

The girl's glare slips off her face after only a few seconds though as a new though replaced her annoyance, and a smirk takes its place. "So where's your burn?"

"Excuse me?" He looks at her again, eyebrow lifted in amusement.

"You knew what would happen. So... you had to have tried it at some point. Where's your little criss-crossy thing?" Darcy lifts her hand, pointing at the burnt lines with her good hand.

He scoffs at her and shakes his head disapprovingly. "I did not learn by foolishly touching that which so obviously would inflict pain upon me."

Darcy looks at him, confused and more than a little irritated by his implications. "Then how'd you know?"

"There was a time when I helped put prisoners into these cells. I am well aware of how they function."

Darcy's eyes widen at him, and her irritations is forgotten. "Really?" Looking at him now, she can't decide if she believes him or not.

But his only response is to nod his head once and return to his book.

"That's it? That's all I get?"

He ignores her.

Darcy sighs. "Look. You're stuck here with me until someone comes along and realizes I'm not supposed to be here. And who knows when that's gonna happen. So you might as well talk to me. Not like there's anything better to be doing in here."

The man lowers his book and scowls over at her. "I was quite content reading and would gladly continue to do so if only you would be so kind as to shut you mouth, mortal."

She blinks at him irritated and getting the feeling she had just been insulted, though she couldn't say for sure. "Mortal?"

He narrows his eyes at her. "Yes. Mortal. A being who has a limited, and in your case quite short, life span. Surely even you are aware that you must die someday."

Darcy glares at him, mad enough she would have stormed out if it wouldn't have required her to pass through the magic barrier - which she has no intention of even going near again any time soon. "I think I liked you better when you didn't talk." She hears him laugh as she turns her back on him, preferring to stare through the barrier at the empty cell across the hall than to look at her absolutely infuriating cellmate.

The impatient mortal makes it a whole twenty minutes before she gets bored again. Darcy pushes herself up off the floor, careful to use her non-burned hand. She walks back over to the table and sits on the edge of it. She picks up the book she had tossed across the table earlier. Darcy flicks it open again, frowns at the strange symbols, and closes I once more. She balances the book upright, letting the pages fan out enough to keep it from falling. She then picks up another book from the stack and lays it flat on the top of the one she stood up. Picking up a third book, she places it upright on top of her first two. Darcy successfully makes a tower of seven books before her hand slips with book number eight and sends the whole thing crashing down, tumbling books all over the table and floor. She flinches as the sounds fills the otherwise silent room. Hesitantly looking up, Darcy sees that her cellmate is looking at her with a facial expression that pretty well shouts that he's ready to kill her. Darcy gulps and forces a slight smile, trying to appear innocent. "Oops?"

The man scowls at her and gets up from his bed, laying his book gently down in his place. He stalks over to her, and Darcy suddenly begins feeling like a child who had been caught doing something she knows she shouldn't.

"Yeah... sorry about that. I'll just put them back where I got 'em now." Darcy reaches for the book nearest her, but before she can close her hand around the cover, she finds her wrist caught in the vice-like grip of her cellmate.

When he speaks now, his voice is little more than a restrained whisper. "Do not touch them again." His bright green eyes pierce into the girl's. Darcy opens her mouth to say something, but he looks away from her to the mess of books scattered all over the place. The man holds his other hand open, palm facing the table. Each of the books slowly lift from the floor and come to hover above the table, before stacking themselves in the exact same order they had been in before the careless mortal woman had come along and disturbed them.

And Darcy forgets that her hand is going numb, locked in his bruising grip. She stares open-mouthed at the once again neatly stacked books and the man who had cleaned up her mess with a wave of his hand. He turns back to her, look of anger still plastered to his face. At the sight of the astonished mortal's face, she shakes his head disapprovingly. But Darcy notices that his hard expression softens somewhat, his eyes looking a little less murderous.

"Nice trick." Darcy blinks up at him in fascination. This guy may be a criminal, but he is officially the coolest criminal she has ever met. "Do something else!"

The man smirks and lifts an eyebrow at the girl before him, the girl who only a moment ago had seemed terrified by him and is now suddenly looking at him like he is the most amazing thing she has ever seen. "And why should I perform 'tricks' for the likes of you?"

A mischievous grin breaks out on Darcy's face. "Because if you don't do something to keep me busy, I'll probably just mess up your stuff again." She shrugs her shoulders and looks around the room as if searching for what trouble she can get into next.

The man's eyes narrow at her again. He roughly pulls on her wrist that he still holds captive and places her open hand down on the table. Darcy grabs his arm to try to push him away from her, but he easily catches that hand as well and forces it down on the table beside her other one. He whispers something in a foreign language and releases her, quickly stepping away as the girl tries to kick him. He smiles as she tries to come after him only to find that her hands have been sealed to the surface of the table. She looks angry for a moment, but then her eyes widen in curiosity, and she begins laughing. The mortal tugs at her hands, but they don't so much as slip on the smooth wooden tabletop. Well, she'd gotten what she asked for; he had played a trick on her alright.

Darcy's crooked smile comes back to her face. She twists to the side as best she can and sharply bounces her hip against the side of the table. The tables shakes, and the stack of books on it once again goes crashing to the floor. The bookds scatter about the cell, many falling awkwardly on their pages.

The man scowls at her, but Darcy just smiles back, giving the table another bump to send one final book tipping from where it was precariously hanging off the edge of the table. The book tumbles towards the floor, only to stop and hover a few inches from the ground.

The book flies back up onto the table and lands open on a page near the beginning. A few sheets of loose paper sail over from somewhere behind Darcy to land gently on the table beside the book. A strange-looking pen appears as well, and the man picks it up and leans over the paper. He lowers the pen to the paper but stops before writing anything. He glances up at the mortal girl still stuck to the table beside him. "Do not do that again." Darcy sticks her tongue out at him, and he scowls at her but goes back to his writing. He stares intently at the book for a moment before he begins scribbling down something on the paper.

Curious, Darcy leans closer to her cellmate so she can see what he's writing. And to her surprise, she can read it! He's writing in normal Earth letter English and not those weird runes! Darcy smiles excitedly and reads along as he writes. She has no idea what it's about except that it has something to do with magic. After a couple minutes, the man stops writing and slides the paper over in front of Darcy, placing it between her hands so she can read it. The mortal girl looks up at him with a quizzical expression on her face.

"Free yourself." He smirks at her and walks back to his bed on the other side of the room, leaving the rest of the books where they fell. He picks up the book he left there and returns to his reading, once again pretending that the mortal woman imprisoned with him is not there.

"Wait, what?" Darcy looks at him incredulously, but he offers no reply. So she turns back to the paper before her. She can read the letters and understand the words now, but that doesn't mean she's got a clue what the thing's talking about. Her eyes quickly scan the page.

The first bit seems like a general description type thing that sounds about right for ungluing her hands from the table, but the rest of it still feels like pure gibberish. But it's not like she has anything more interesting to do right now. So she reads it again. And again. And again. Until she could recite the whole page by heart.

She stares at the neat writing until her head hurts and still she doesn't understand. An occasional glance at the man across the room shows he still isn't paying her the least bit of attention. He'd given her the busy work she had asked for then gone back to pretending she doesn't even exist.

Darcy shakes the table in her frustration, letting out an exasperated sigh.

And her paper flutters off the moving table to land in the floor on the other side, far out of Darcy's reach. She kicks the baseo fthe table angrily, successfully hurting her toes. "Abra Kadabra! Hocus Pocus! Avada Kedavra!" Darcy shouts all the 'magic' words she sknows, and when nothing happens, the flustered mortal lets out a groan of defeat and slumps forward on the table. Her hands are caught at an awkward angle beneath her, but she couldn't care less right now.

Darcy shuts her eyes and tries to relax. No easy task to be sure, but at the rate she was going the only thing she was going to accomplish was breaking her own wrists.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in...

Breathe out.

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

...

...


	9. Chapter 9 - Prince of Asgard

The sun is bright in the sky, making the golden city sparkle brilliantly. The rainbow bridge glows warmly beneath her feet. The sky is clear and a bright blue.

Darcy smiles as she drinks it all in. It is a beautiful day in Asgard. A loud screech shatters the early morning silence, followed by what sounds like an overpowered engine ready to fly apart at any moment. The right sky goes black, and the only light comes from further down the bridge, which is now dull and dark as the sky.

Darcy faces the light and has to shield her eyes. She can't make out what the light is coming from, but it's bright enough to have her seeing spots. She tries to move towards the light, but it feels as if she is wading through water.

The bridge trembles beneath her feet, and Darcy falls to her hands and knees on the Bifrost. The magical structure is freezing cold to her skin, sending shivers through her fragile mortal body.

Something is wrong. Something is so very wrong. She has to get to the end of the bridge!

Darcy struggles to get back on her feet and takes a few running steps towards the light. And then she's flying... An impossible gust of wind tosses her high into the air, and the brilliant light fills her entire world.

And then it's gone.

The bright light is gone, and Darcy can once again see the stars. They're all around her now, sparkling above and glittering below.

And she's falling.

At first the fall is so gentle, she can't even tell she's falling. But then her speed picks up. Wind whips her hair violently about her face, and it's hard to breathe. Looking down, Darcy can see shattered pieces of the rainbow bridge falling away below her. Looking up, she can see the jagged edge where the Bifrost broke off.

She tries to scream, but it catches in her throat. She reaches for something to hold onto, but there's nothing there.

She's fallen into darkness, and now she will fall forever.

* * *

"Calm yourself, woman. Wake up!"

A hand on Darcy's shoulder shakes her roughly. The girl's head snaps up, and she swats away the hand. Her eyes are wide as saucers, and her face red as if she had been running.

Darcy blink up at the man standing over her. After a few seconds, she finally recognizes him and remembers where she is.

It was just a dream... just a dream...

Darcy sits in the floor by the table in the cell, her legs folded awkwardly beneath her. She looks up at her cellmate. He towers over her, clearly irritated. He continues to glare at her a few moments before he finally lets out an exasperated sigh and reaches to pull her up out of the floor. But now vividly recalling what happened the last time he had grabbed hold of her, Darcy leans away and smacks at his hand again.

At first, he looks mad. But the anger quickly dissipates. He doesn't look all upset any more, but he continues to stare at the girl before him with narrowed eyes. Difference is: instead of looking at her like he'd like nothing more than to kill her right then and there, it's more like he's studying her. In fact, Darcy's pretty sure she saw the exact same look on Jane's face when the kids showed them the cool floating truck.

Thoroughly creeped out now, Darcy uses the table to pull herself up off the floor and takes a few steps towards the other side of the cell. And then it hits her, stopping her in her tracks. She had smacked him. She had pulled herself up using the table. She is now no longer in an arm's reach of the table. And her hands are still attached to her body!

Darcy whirls back around to stare at her cellmate. "Did you..."

He shakes his head slowly.

The mortal girl looks down at her no-longer-glued-to-the-table hands as if they are shooting rainbows all over the room, and a huge grin spreads across her face. She quickly turns and begins waving her hands at the chair on the other side of the table. "Abra kadabra!"

...

Nothing happens.

Darcy frowns, disappointed. Putting on her best pouting face, she settles for shuffling over to sit in the chair instead.

Darcy's cellmate bursts into laughter at the mortals whole performance, earning him a glare from the pouting girl. His laughter fades into a light chuckle before settling in as a smirk. "Dare I ask, what did you mean to do to my chair with that ridiculous charm?"

The girl looks down and mumbles something unintelligible.

"Come now. It's my chair. I think I've a right to know what atrocity nearly befell it."

Darcy sighs, and without looking up, repeats, "I... tried to turn it purple."

Laughter fills the room once more. Darcy looks up and glares at her cellmate, only spurring him to laugh harder. After only a few seconds, the girl's upset demeanor begins to slip. A wry smile settles on her face. "Oh, come on. It wasn't that bad. Besides... these are like THE magic words back home." When he only keeps laughing, Darcy crosses her arms and looks down at her lap, hiding her smile. "Oh, shut up."

The laughter stops.

Darcy lifts her head slightly to look up at her cellmate again. He's just staring at her, his head tilting to the side like he's studying something strange. He doesn't seem angry, but there's no trace of his smile or laughter from only a brief moment ago.

"No one, save my brother and father, dare speak to me like that, especially some mortal."

"Darcy."

"What?"

"My name is Darcy. Not mortal. If we're going to be stuck here together for a while, you might as well learn it."

For a long moment, he just stares at her. His gaze shifts from her face to her hands then the table she's no longer attached to. Looking back to her eyes, he gives a single nod. "Darcy then."

The girl's face lights up. It's a small victory, but hey, things are getting a little better already. "Good! Now, why don't you tell me your name?"

He just blinks at her, like he can't believe she doesn't already know who he is. He holds his head high, shaking off the offense. "I am Loki, God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard."

Darcy's mouth drops open. "You're kidding me, right?" The man before her narrows his eyes at her, clearly greatly offended by her reaction. "Like, you're Thor's brother, aren't you? And your dad's like the king or some shit! What the hell are you doing locked up in the creepy dungeon? Although, that does explain why you get real furniture." She says as eh glances back at the other cells, now holding neither furniture nor prisoners. "And wait! That means you're the dude who wrecked New Mexico!"

"And New York."

Darcy waves her hand dismissively. "All you super-villain types wreck New York. They should be used to it by now. But you hit cute little New Mexico!"

For a long while, he just stares at her with his head tilted to the side, clearly unsure of what to make of this strange woman. And then he frowns. New Mexico... clearly a reference to when he sent the Destroyer to deal with Thor and his meddlesome friends. But that had occurred in a small town with no great amount of people present. And from the way the organization SHIELD had attempted to hide his acts during his time in Midgard, he is certain they would have had no trouble covering up the incident in the small desert town. So that means... this girl had to have been there when it happened. He studies her a moment longer, trying to remember.

She was there. As Thor regained his power, she was there. She stood behind Thor with the woman who had turned Thor soft and the old scientist Loki had used to help him with the portal for the Chitauri. This woman is another friend of his brother...

"You were there when I sent the Destroyer. You were one of the pathetic mortals hiding behind Thor."

"Damn right I was! Right behind him and the chick with the spear!"

Loki scowls at her. "Perhaps I should have turned the Destroyer on you then and spared myself an inconvenience now."

"Well, alright-y then, Prince Not-So-Charming. You know, I'm starting to get why they put you in the creepy dungeon!"

And suddenly her cellmate is looking a little murderous again. His fists clench and unclench in obvious anger, but he says nothing. He shuts his eyes a moment, and when he opens them again he will not look at the troublesome mortal. He stalks over to the barrier and simply stares out at the bright empty cells and the floor still covered in the bodies of their former occupants.

Darcy watches him go and, for once, bites back the sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue. It is possible... that this is not the time for sarcasm.

* * *

*one hour later*

"So... you like grew up in Asgard, right?"

"Yes." A short answer, but at least he answered her this time.

"And... you're supposed to be like super powerful and magic-y, right?"

"Yes." Was that a touch of amusement in his voice?

"So is this," she flaps her hand around to indicate the cell, "what time out looked like when you were a kid?" All he does is lift an eyebrow at her, so she assumes he doesn't get it and rambles on some more. "Like I can just see your dad telling you to 'go sit in the corner and think about what you've done.'" Said in her absolute best grumpy old man voice of course. "And then you being all like 'fuck you!' and throwing a fireball in his face! Or Thor being sent to his room and suddenly there's a thunderstorm in your living room, complete with a little blonde kid literally bouncing off the walls with a giant hammer!" The girl's eyes shine with laughter as she watches her little musings unfold in her head.

Loki stares at her, his mouth slightly open, as for one of those rare moments in his life, he has no idea what to say. "...no."

* * *

*two hours later*

"Why wasn't I stuck to the table any more when I woke up?"

"Isn't it obvious? You undid the charm in your sleep."

"But how?"

There is a long pause before Loki finally answers her. "I am unsure. While the charm was simple enough even for an Asgardian child, I had believed removing it to be beyond the magical capabilities of any of your race. It was my understanding that you mortals have very little to no grasp on the arcane arts."

"Well, maybe you don't know as much as you think you do."

* * *

*thirty minutes later*

"What are you doing?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"I'm bored. Your turn."

Loki sighs as he places his pen back on the table. "A translation of another simple charm I would like you to try."

Darcy's eyes widen in surprise as he passes the paper to her. It's in English, but it still just looks like a mess to her. "You really think I can do this?"

"No. But letting you try will at least get you to stop rifling through my belongings for a time."

"For a time." Darcy laughs maniacally as she drops to the floor with her new paper. Glancing back up at her cellmate, she's pleased to see he actually looks amused rather than irritated... for a time.

* * *

*two hours later*

"Ooh! Did it work?" Darcy's voice squeaks with excitement as she looks at Loki for confirmation.

Without even looking up from the book he's reading, he says, "I don't know. Look down. Can you still see your arm?"

"...yes?"

"Then it didn't work, did it?"

Darcy pouts and flops back to land on the bed, since as of three hours ago Loki had seen fit to steal the only chair in the room from her. He looks over and scowls at her for it, but she just sticks her tongue out at him and stares up at the ceiling. After a few minutes she holds her arm up in front of her face. It looks a lot paler with the very white ceiling behind it, but it's definitely still there. Why did he have to give her a stupid invisibility spell? That's so hard! Why couldn't he have giver her something easy to do? Like turning the damn chair purple?!

He claims this spell is easy enough a child could do it as well. All this comparing her to a child is hardly maker her feel better about the fact that she is still pretty un-invisible. She's fairly see-through, but visible to anyone paying even a bit of attention.

The sound of footsteps echo through the whole dungeon. At first, both Darcy and Loki ignore it, each assuming the sound to be made by the other. But then a guard appears at the bottom of the stairs. It only takes a second to see there is something very wrong. The guard's face is grim, his eyes haunted.

Loki stands and walks to the barrier in front of the guard.

"Ill news, sir. You may wish to sit back down." When the god of mischief only glares at him, he shrugs and goes on. "The queen is dead, sir, killed by the monster that escaped this morning and the dark elves he let in."

Loki's face betrays nothing. He gives a single nod, and the guard turns to leave. When the sound of his footsteps fades up the stairs, Loki's fists clench. A burst of magical energy sweeps through the room. Books fall from the table, papers fly about the room, and the chair falls over. Darcy lets out a yelp as a strange tingling feeling hits her.

Slowly, the mortal girl sits up, looking at her cellmate with pity and a touch of fear. He isn't looking at her though. In fact, he seems to have forgotten about her completely. His eyes dart around the room rapidly as he stumbles back over to the table, looking lost. A dangerous light comes into his piercing green eyes. With a terrible shout, he hurls one of his books across the room.

A slight ripple goes through the light wall. The book tumbles to the floor, its cover singed, and the smell of burnt paper fills the small room.

Darcy mutters the words to her little invisibility spell one last desperate time and dives under the bed to take cover, as she witnesses what she can only describe as the world's worst temper tantrum.

It's only when it's all over and an eerily calm Loki is sitting in the floor on the far side of the cell, Darcy finally realizes with a sinking heart that the guard, who was quite possibly her one chance at getting out of here, had not even seen her.


End file.
